Dear Emily
by CJLogan
Summary: There had been a reason she'd left Quantico, left her family, left JJ. Could she really do this again after the progress she'd made? Could any good actually come from this? Third and final part to the Playing Along series - rated M for later chapters.


**Author's Note:** So, this is for those of you that requested an alternate ending for Playing Along/4:13am; therefore, if you haven't read either of those, I strongly advise that you do otherwise it will likely make no sense. It took me a while to really have a good feeling about writing this, as the bases of the previous stories was quite simply that happy endings don't always exist, so it felt hypocritical of me to then give them a happily ever after. I also didn't want to take anything away from the realness of those two stories, so I really hope that I don't.

**Author's Note 2:** The way I plan to write this will be a little different from what I usually write, and because of that, updates may be infrequent. Having said that, my muse has been serving me well recently (I'm even getting paid actual money for a short story of mine!) so she may continue to be kind and you will possibly get an update fairly soon.

**Author's Note 3: _To those of you that did request this:_** I hope I don't disappoint, and please do let me know your thoughts. _**And to those of you that didn't:**_ It isn't my intention to give them an 'easy' happy ending in this. I still plan to make it as real as possible, and therefore hopefully you will enjoy it too. Again, please let me know your opinions.

* * *

Running a finger along its brown leather cover, Emily's heart sat firmly in her throat. Physically, it looked beautiful, sophisticated, entirely innocent as it lay on her coffee table; nothing like her mind was conjuring it up to be.

For in her tumultuous brain, this object was dangerous, uncertain, and quite frankly terrifying. Appearances are deceiving, and beyond its fine cover, she knew, its contents could change everything – take every white lie she'd told herself over the past 10 months, every brick she'd laid around her once weakened heart, every step she'd made in what she felt was the right direction; and shake up her world once more.

This journal, she knew, would throw her right back into the past and she wasn't certain she had the strength to pull herself to safety once she had taken that step. There had been a reason she'd left Quantico, left her family, left JJ. Could she really do this again after the progress she'd made? Could any good actually come from this?

Emily's resolve was crumbling. She was an intelligent woman – she knew the consequences that may come from delving beyond its covers, but this was JJ, the woman she would have given up everything for; the woman she, in effect, DID give up everything for.

Beside the journal sat an eggshell envelope with JJ's handwriting clearly scrawled across the front in black ink. That's how she'd known – she'd recognise that handwriting anywhere. And the longer she stared at it, the more dangerously compelling the urge to read it became.

This day was always going to come; the day when she would have to face her past. That day, she knew, was this day, this moment.

And that's when something shifted inside Emily; she became a different person entirely. Her walls strengthened, now strong enough to withstand anything this letter could throw at her, her heart more protected than ever to the point where she was sure it had stopped beating, and as she gently tore open the seal on the envelope, she knew she was ready.

It was time.

_Dear Emily,_

_I feel it would be arrogant of me to assume that receiving this has had a great deal of affect on you. Perhaps I'm nothing more than a faded memory, another compartment in the deep crevices of your brain that you rarely open – or perhaps I'm not even worthy of one of those compartments._

_But when I think that way, I remember the way you'd look at me, the way you'd touch me, the way you'd hold me even when I didn't deserve it, and I realise that this isn't about me anymore. You always did right by me, and you deserve to know the truth, however difficult it may be for me to put such a thing into words._

_I've fought with myself for months over sending this to you, over possibly destroying your world once again. And even now, as I write this, I'm still uncertain that I ever will. So if you're reading this right now, it means that I finally found the courage to do what I should have done a long time ago. My only hope is that you know that this isn't because I want something from you._

_If I finally send out this package, I'm certain that my heart will jump each time I hear the mail man for weeks after – expecting to find this package sitting on my doorstep with 'Return To Sender' written across the front. I'm not trying to guilt you into not doing such a thing, Emily; I'm simply telling you that I am prepared for that. It is no more than I deserve._

_I said this isn't about me, but maybe it is. Am I being selfish in wanting you to read this? To want you to know? To hope that I'm not too late? Perhaps I am. But as I said, I don't want anything from you, and I am prepared for you to not be ready for my long overdue efforts._

_Please, Emily, don't read this if you're happy with your life – if you know that even my slight presence in it would ruin that for you. There's a match in this envelope for that exact possibility – don't be afraid to use it._

_All my love,_

_Jennifer x_

Shaking the envelope onto the coffee table in front of her, sure enough a match fell out. The ball was now effectively in her court; it was her choice – step into the past, or destroy that past?


End file.
